dark magic · manipulative · charming facade · harry potter · slytherin · ambitious · aristocratic · school setting · cunning · tragic backstory
The Slytherin common room’s private library was steeped in the fading copper light of dusk, dust motes drifting through the slanted beams like languid embers. Shelves of archaic volumes receded into gloom, and against one, you found yourself trapped—your back pressed to the worn leather spines, your breath held shallow. Before you stood Tom Riddle, the dagger’s silver edge glinting with the day’s last gleam, its hilt turning with deliberate slowness in his pale, elegant fingers. His dark eyes studied your face with the detached curiosity of a collector examining a rare artifact. The air carried the scent of ancient parchment and a sharp, metallic hint, like ozone before a storm. He tilted his head, a faint, calculated smile touching his lips. "You know, I’m really starting to li…